Stand By You
by Cristalla Blu
Summary: Dawson/Pacey friendship, not slash, moment after Pacey and Doug are involved in a terrifying, but relatively harmless car accident


Summary: This story can really take place at any time in the DC legacy, but is meant to be at a time where Pacey and his father are at odds.  Basically, there is a Dawson/Pacey friendship, **not slash, moment after Pacey and Doug are involved in a terrifying, but relatively harmless car accident.**

Note: I was trying to achieve fragmentation in this – I hope that doesn't make it difficult to read – if it does, I'm sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Awaking from his unconscious stupor, he thought he heard whistles, but then dismissed them as a figment of his imagination, perhaps a dream, or, rather, a horrifyingly real nightmare.  Yet they didn't cease and slowly opening his eyes, he was rudely thrown into reality by the blinding red and blue lights of police cars and those annoying whistles which, in his sudden realization of where he was, were actually sirens from the ambulance situated behind his car.  He slowly turned his head, and grimaced at the throbbing in his temples, to see another car, its front end pushed in and the passenger side window broken.  Turning his head once again, now to look out his driver's side window, he saw a man on a stretcher being loaded into yet another ambulance.  It wasn't long until he recognized that man as his brother, Doug.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once more for that evening, he gradually drifted back into the present and turning his head slowly, he opened his eyes to see the face of a young nurse.

"Hello, Mr. Witter," she said walking around the curtain and out of his cubicle to rummage through some supplies, "Pacey, is it?"

He nodded to no one and hoarsely answered, "Yea, I'm Pacey," then raised his hand to touch a piece of gauze on his forehead.  He gasped through his teeth and quickly moved his hand as pain seared through his head.

Returning to his bed she asked, "Do you remember what happened, sir?"

"Uh," he sighed, "All I remember was this guy veering into my lane."

"You were in a car accident."

Pacey knew that he couldn't be all that hurt because he felt the urge to be sarcastic and say, _'No kidding I was in a car accident,' but decided to keep his comments to himself for the time being._

"Your forehead was cut on a piece of glass from your windshield – there are five stitches under that gauze."

"Wait – the windshield broke?"

"Yes – you're lucky – that cut wasn't too deep.  Now, you should change that gauze every –"

As she continued to speak, which felt like it was hours, Pacey had been tuning her out and collecting his scattered thoughts when it all clicked – "Where's my brother?" he cried, interrupting her.

"I'm not sure, sir, I'm not his nurse – if you give me a few minutes I could check for you, but I need to go over these details with you –"

"I don't care about the details!  What I _do_ care about is if he's alive."  

"Please, sir, let me just talk to you about this for a minute – you need to know how to take care of that laceration –"

"No, what I need to know is where my brother is."  He sat up quickly, too quickly, and immediately had a wave of dizziness wash over him, but he didn't let that stop him from rising from the bed because he was afraid the nurse would make him lie down again.  He didn't know why he felt so compelled to discover his brother's condition – they certainly didn't get along that well – all he knew was that nothing would stop him on his pursuit to find the main desk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How is he?" Dawson asked, leaning forward on the bench, hands locked between his knees.

"He alright I guess," Pacey replied, "They're keeping him overnight, but he should be coming home tomorrow."

Dawson nodded and there was silence for a few long moments as they contemplated the chaos of the night.  Pacey had entered in the waiting room to find all who knew him there, but all he had wanted to do was get some air and after a few brief _'Hello's' and _'Thanks for being here's'_ he made his quick exit, finding an easily accessible bench outside the hospital doors.  Dawson, the ever-ready dispenser of comfort of course had followed close behind and sat down next to him, wanting to talk, and Pacey had, as usual, tried to dismiss him with the excuse of wanting to be alone.  The phrase was overused and long ago had lost its meaning, so Dawson remained, currently getting nowhere in his attempt to get Pacey to open up to him._

After listening to the quiet for a moment longer than he could handle, Dawson asked, "How are you?"

"Eh, my head hurts and I'm a little scraped up, but –"

"No, Pace, I mean how _are you?"_

Pacey raised his eyes to Dawson's, a little startled and didn't know what to say at first, but then found some decent words to describe his inner turmoil, "I – I'm fine.  It just threw me off guard, you know?"  He dropped his gaze, "I thought it was my fault when I saw it at first – and then I saw Doug being put into that ambulance and all I could think was _'I killed my brother'_."

"Pace – you know this wasn't your fault, right?  I mean, that guy's blood alcohol level was through the roof –"

"Yea, Dawson, I know that, but it doesn't make it any better.  Doug _could_ have died tonight.  _I could have died."_

"Don't say that, man – it's over now, don't speculate about it."

Pacey bit his lip and nodded, and looked down at his hands, but still Dawson could see that his eyes glassy with tears, "I almost wish I _had died in there."_

Dawson cringed, his mouth agape in disbelief at what he was hearing, "Wait - what are you talking about?"

"Dawson, you know that if this had happened to you, your parents would be here consoling you and making sure you felt ok and that you weren't hurt – do you know the kind of hell that awaits me when my father finds out about this?  Thank God he's away because if he was here I'd be needing stitches other places besides my head."

"He's going to talk to people – he'll know it wasn't your fault."

"It doesn't matter, Dawson, all that matters is that poor Dougie, the golden boy, was in the car too – not only in the car, but in the passenger seat where we got hit!"  His voice started to waver, "Who cares if Pacey was in the car too?  Right?  Pacey – the delinquent son, the one that doesn't matter –"

"Pace, you do matter, it's just hard for him to express that."

"Well, let me tell ya, he has no problem expressing his undying love for Doug."

"Hey, man, it's-"

Pacey looked up quickly, fire in his eyes, "Don't you dare say those words, Dawson – it is _not_ ok.  It's not going to be ok because nothing's gonna change – it's only gonna get worse and I'm gonna be smack-dab in middle because he can't analyze anything beyond his sense of sight – and what he's gonna see is a totaled car and a 'damaged Dougie.'"  He stopped to take a breath, "I just wish that he could extend his compassion past his first born – just once even."

Dawson, who had been listening quietly to the tirade suddenly realized that a gentler tone would be required at this point, "Pace - you know that we're always here – whether your dad is or isn't."

Pacey dropped his eyes again, and nodded, biting his bottom lip.  Dawson leaned forward slightly and tilted his head to get a better look at his friend and saw that he was beginning to cry. "Pace," he whispered, putting a hand on his back.

Pacey looked up at him and smiled a miserable smile through his tears, "Yea," his voice was soft and husky, "I know."

Dawson smiled sympathetically and moved his arm to wrap all the way around Pacey's shoulders as he felt him shake with small sobs.  

He hated to see his friend in such a vulnerable state because he knew it was rare and only at times of utter despair, but he felt relieved also – he felt assured now that Pacey knew that his support system was still intact regardless of his family struggles and that was a difficult and awkward topic to bring up in a normal daily situation.  An atypical opportunity had presented itself and he was glad – everyone loved Pacey – and even if he hadn't known before – Pacey knew it now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I hope you enjoyed that – I don't where I got my inspiration, but I wanted to write it!  If you have time, I'd really appreciate reviews too!


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